


Grab Me, I'm Slipping, And I'm Close To The Edge

by SomethingWiccanThisWayComes



Series: There's More Than One Type Of Love [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Abuse, Anxiety Attacks, Aromantic Relationships, Asexual Relationships, Eating Disorders, F/F, F/M, France and Britain are trans in this one kiddos, Homophobia, Kuma is a malamute now, M/M, Mentions of Mental Illness, MtF characters, Multi, Panic Attacks, Past Rape/Non-con, Polyamorous Relationships, Scotland Wales N.Ireland and Ireland are good brothers for a change, Self Harm, Tony is a cat but is still kinda alien-ish, Trans Characters, Transphobia, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, Xenophobia, ftm characters, mentions of abuse, mentions of eating disorders, possible teen pregnancy??? Idk yet we'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-07-29 05:43:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16257836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomethingWiccanThisWayComes/pseuds/SomethingWiccanThisWayComes
Summary: "What's this scar on your neck?"Inhale."Why do you react so badly to being touched?"Exhale."Alison Kirkland!"Inhale."Is everything alright at home, Arthur?"Fuck.





	1. Welcome To America

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I accidentally deleted my notes and have to rewrite them, so if they seem different that's why. Anyways, this is my first fic on Archive, and I hope to improve as I continue writing this story! As you can see by the tags, this story deals with heavy topics, so please, read safely. You should always put your health before literature.
> 
> Warning! This chapter contains mentions of rape/non-con and child abuse. Read with caution, please!

“-and I swear to God, Alison, if you pull another little stunt like you did back home-”

Arthur closed his emerald green eyes and leaned his head against the window. His thick eyebrows struggled not to furrow just as badly as he struggled not to tear up. The entire ride to their new home had been filled with insults, threats, and reminders of the incident. He rubbed his hand on his sweater-clad arm and fought the urge to sigh. If he made any indication he didn't agree with his mother he'd be showing up for his first day of school with a black eye and a busted lip. A sharp pain snapped him out of his inner musings.

“Unload the packages, Alison. I need a drink. God knows I deserve one, dealing with you.” Arthur bit back any sounds of pain as he hefted his mother's three large suitcases into the house, unpacking them and putting all her things away. He then trudged up to the attic with his duffle bag in tow. Three guest rooms and he was sleeping in the attic. He allowed himself the smallest of huffs before using a cloth to clear out the spiderwebs and dust. Once he was satisfied with the state of the eerie room he pulled his sleeping bag out and unrolled it. He paused as he unpacked and slowly lifted it out. His most prized possession, the first toy his father had given him when he was little. Of course, Scot wasn't his real dad, but he might as well have been. It was obvious from day one Arthur was the result of an affair, but Scot had still loved him just like the rest of his boys. Arthur smiled softly to himself as he rubbed the mint green fur of the little winged rabbit plush. Flying Mint Bunny. Hey, he was three, cut him some slack. His smile faded a bit as he pondered. How would Scot and his brothers react if they ever found out their darling little sister was actually their little brother?

He wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater and let a wet chuckle escape his throat. Scot would probably pick him up and spin him around the same way he did when Alistair announced he was bisexual. No, Scot had never been the problem. The creature downstairs screeching at the moving van for being two minutes late? She was the problem. With a grunt of pain, Arthur hoisted himself to his feet, massaging his left leg before making his way downstairs. Hope my classes are fairly close together. He thought nervously as he eyed the injured limb. He didn't enjoy the idea of limping from class to class. He would already be ridiculed enough as it is, he didn't need to add to the inevitable jeers he would receive. He rounded the corner and waited patiently for his mother to address him.

“Alison, have you finished unpacking?” She didn't even bother to mask her disdain for her own child in front of the workers, five men who appeared to be of Nordic descent, though they could very well be immigrants with their constant comments to one another in… Swedish? Danish? The blondes seemed to carry easy conversation in different languages from one another. His mother swatted his head, jarring him from his musings. “Go do whatever, I don't want you in the way.” Arthur nodded once before rushing out the front door, eager to escape the woman.

He looked around his street with a frown. A bunch of two story houses with near identical architecture. He missed the flat he'd shared with Scot, the one with the cracked bathroom window from when Ian got scared by a bird, and where Alistair came out and was proudly accepted by his father. These copy-paste buildings held no visible stories. Not to mention how hopelessly lost he would become. Making up his mind, he turned left and just wandered, constantly checking his surroundings and never taking his hand off the pocket knife in his pocket. He was sure he'd find something vaguely interesting around, and if not, he'd at least be able to avoid the tyrant that birthed him. He'd barely been outside for an hour when he'd lost sense of where his new house was. Sighing, he started to look around for anything that could help him find his way. A sudden shout and the sound of a bicycle failing to stop was the only warning he received before he was slammed into, the rider flipping into the air before landing **_on top of him, hands grabbing, pulling, pinning. No escape, no escape, he couldn't break his damn grip! The hand over his mouth kept his screams from being more than muffled terror as-_**

“Ow!! What the hell?!” Arthur struggled to breathe as he fell back and scrambled away from the other. He was a boy around his age with shoulder length golden blonde hair. His blue eyes were glossy with pained tears, slender fingers wrapped around a pointed nose, bright red blood standing out against his skin. Judging by the bewildered glare being directed at him and the ache in his left hand, Arthur could hazard a guess that he'd just punched the poor kid. Arthur felt tears well up in his own eyes as apologies stuttered past his lips. The arrival of three more boys, each with equally upset and confused expressions, only made his attempts worse. The boy with the bloody nose quickly lost his heated look as Arthur struggled to apologize past the tightness of his own throat. The other sighed before standing up and offering a hand to him.

“I'm sorry.” Arthur squeaked out as he pushed himself off the ground, ignoring the offered appendage. The other three boys had long since kicked down their kickstands and gathered next to their injured friend. Arthur felt chills run down his spine as he noticed one of the boys was massive, towering over his average-height friends, and completely dwarfing Arthur in size. The tall one huffed in displeasure and broke eye contact with him, lilac irises flooding with hurt.

“Are you new? I have not seen you around before.” The other's English sounded slightly forced, his French accent adding to the idea that English wasn't the boy's first language. The tall one fiddled with his platinum blonde hair for a moment before turning to the third blonde, another blue-eyed boy with glasses and a messy cow-lick. He murmured something softly, his Russian accent thick in Arthur's ears, which caused the boy to grin. The fourth was the most contrasting of the group, with brown skin and dreadlocks pulled into a high ponytail. He was focused on a game console in his hands, not paying much mind to the situation at hand. Arthur looked back over the others and blushed as he realized he had taken too long to answer.

“Oh! Um, yes, I’m new, to this neighbourhood. Well, the whole country, really, I just-” He was cut off by an excited look from the boy in the glasses. He rushed forward like an overly happy dog, bouncing around with barely contained joy.

“Whoa! You're new to America? Oh my God, dude! Where ya from? You sound British, are you British? How are you liking the place so far? I'm Alfred, by the way, what's your name?” Arthur blinked slowly as he processed the mile-a-minute chatter he'd just been hit with. He looked to the others to find them shaking their heads fondly. Clearly, Alfred was like this a majority of the time.

“I'm…” He hesitated, too aware of the way the sweater hugged his chest and his jeans showed off the curve of his waist. Even though he was flat-chested, it was still obvious he had breasts, and if there was any doubt about his physical sex, his pear-shaped body and large hips cleared them away. The French boy looked at him oddly for a few seconds before his eyes widened a bit as if in realization. He raised a hand to his chest and rapped his knuckles against it. Instead of the expected thump of flesh, the soft ‘thuck’ of a hard, cloth-covered object rang out. A binder. “...Arthur. Arthur Kirkland.” He murmured softly as he made eye contact with the boy. He smiled gently as if to reassure him.

“Francis Bonnefoy. I have got to say, most of the time when I bump into someone attractive, I do not walk away with a bleeding nose.” Arthur blushed bright red at the discreet compliment.

“Ivan Braginsky.” The Russian boy muttered into his jacket.

“Alfred Jones!” Alfred chirped happily despite having already given his first name mere minutes ago.

“Carlos Machado.” The final one barked without looking up from his game. Francis smacked his arm admonishingly before stealing a wipe out of his jacket pocket to clean the blood off his face. He turned back towards Arthur with an easy smile on his face.

“I'm so sorry for punching you! I just got startled, and…” Francis shook his head and wrapped an easy arm around his shoulders, tilting his head when Arthur tensed up. He quickly removed his arm with an apologetic smile.

“It is fine. We can… pass this behind?” He sounded unsure, looking over to his friends. Ivan blushed and shrugged as Alfred snickered into his hand. Carlos, again without looking up from his game, corrected him, “Put this behind us, Fran.” He looked up to smile at the Frenchman and did a double take as if just now realizing Arthur was there. His brown eyes seemed to take in every detail it could and Arthur shifted his feet nervously under the scrutiny.

“Cute.” Carlos murmured. He turned and swatted Alfred as the American busted up laughing. “Ignore him, he finds everything funnier than it is.” He glared at the taller boy before turning back, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks. “Anyways, if you’re new, you obviously need someone to show you around. I've lived in this neighbourhood the longest, I can give you the lay of the land…” He trailed off to swat at his giggling friends once more. Ivan mumbled something into his coat collar in response.

“Eh? Speak up, ‘van!” Carlos encouraged the shy boy.

“I said I can go with you. For protection, I mean. You know how Josh and his friends are. They're almost as bad as Dan at school.” He glanced at Arthur before quickly looking away again, shoulders hunched. Arthur felt a bit of heat reach his face as he realized Ivan was intentionally trying to make himself look smaller. It wasn't working in the slightest, but the intent was sweet. Working up his nerve, he smiled at the Russian and nodded. The tiniest of smiles peaked out from under the material of his hoodie.

“I can come for backup! And also to ease tension!” Alfred yapped, slinging an arm around Carlos's waist. The Cuban huffed, face red, as he playfully struggled to escape his friend’s grasp. Francis sighed dramatically before we walking over, leaning against Ivan.

“Guess I must come as well to talk us out of the situations you will inevitably get us into.” He stated as he gestured towards Alfred. The younger boy stuck his tongue out. “It is settled then. Arthur, aside from punching my beautiful face, you seem likable enough. Welcome to the Rejects.” Arthur hesitated as Francis offered his hand once more before sliding his long pale fingers into his grasp.

 

Arthur smiled happily as he held the small tabby kitten. They had received a call from Alfred's mom that he needed to come home and take his brother's dog Kumajirou for a walk. Apparently the Canadian had broken his arm trying to impress some boy named Gilbert. _“Oh, you should see it, Al! Gilbert won't stop fretting over Matt. I'll be sure to send you the proposal video.”_ The woman had teased over the phone with the sound of the aforementioned Matthew whining about it in the background. While Alfred and Ivan were wrestling to get the large white malamute in his harness, Carlos had plopped Alfred's grey tabby, Tony, into Arthur's lap.

“You seem like a cat person.” had been his only explanation. Arthur scratched at Tony's chin in delight as the little thing purred and nuzzled against him. He was an odd little thing with large dark eyes and a habit of staring for uncomfortable amounts of time, but he was sweet and soft and enjoyed being pet, much to Arthur's delight. Kumajirou's booming bark startled the little cat into racing towards Alfred's room. Upon noticing Arthur, the dog stained against his leash, barking incessantly. Arthur jumped up, edging away from the animal.

“Kuma! No! Knock it off! What's gotten into you!?” Alfred cried out as the dog yanked the leash out of his hand and leapt onto Arthur. The four boys froze, wondering what to do, when Arthur managed to thrust a thumbs up from around the mass of fluff on top of him. Kumajirou wagged his tail happily as he smothered his new friend. Ivan walked over and hoisted the large dog up in his arms to allow Arthur to breathe. By the time they made it out the door, Arthur was covered in white fur and dog slobber. Carlos ruffled the dog’s head and smiled. “Sorry bout that, Artie!!” Alfred called to him as he struggled to keep the white ball of energy from barreling down the road.

“Alison!” Arthur flinched as his mother stormed towards the group. “Of course you're out here trying to make a scene again!” She grabbed his arm harshly, dragging him back in the direction of their house. He realized his new home was only five houses away from Alfred's right before his mother slammed the door, cutting him off from his maybe-friends and the only possible witnesses to the harsh slap he received for being in the presence of boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, my first chapter! I mentioned when I first posted this that I had no idea how to italicize words. I have since discovered that it was due to the format I was using. For any new users such as myself, use Rich Text instead of HTML when copy-pasting your work onto Archive. This allows you to go in and make adjustments to the text. I have also corrected some inaccuracies and spelling errors. I apologize, I write a bit too fast for my keyboard to keep up. I hope you enjoy and stick around for more to come!


	2. A Warm School Welcome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! This chapter starts off with allusions to an eating disorder! Read safely, everyone!
> 
> Chapters probably won't be able to come out with a schedule, unfortunately. I have a lot of school work and other life stuff, so the chapters will come out when I have time to write them. Apologies for any inconveniences and thanks for understanding. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

Arthur wiped at his mouth with a disgusted groan. He frowned down into the porcelain bowl before flicking the tab and watching the vomit mix with the water as it swirled down into the hole. He splashed some cold water in his face and grimaced as he noticed the light pink that ringed his irises, an unwelcome side-effect of tears. _Great. Just what I needed. First day of school and I look like I inhaled a blunt._ He wiped at his tears furiously, only resulting in irritating his eyes further. With a frustrated huff he grabbed his backpack and ran out the door.

 

On the plus side, his mother's refusal to drive him meant he didn't need to be in her presence before school. As he continued running down the sidewalk, heart pounding as he realized he was once again lost, the downside made itself quite apparent. Just as he was about to call his mother, the ringing of a bike bell and a familiar shout made him look up. Francis grinned as he swerved to a stop about two feet away from him. Arthur could see the rest of the Rejects behind him, loudly complaining about Francis's speed. A helmet was shoved in his pale hands as Francis pointed at the metal bars jutting out from either side of the middle of his wheels.

 

“Hop on!” Upon seeing Arthur's confused expression, Alfred hopped off his bike and got on the back of Francis's to demonstrate. He put his feet on the bars and grasped onto Francis's shoulders before leaping off and heading back to his own bicycle. Hesitantly, Arthur climbed on as he adjusted the strap to his helmet. “You know, you could have walked over to Alfred's, we would have grabbed his brother's bike for you.” Francis mentioned as he pedaled off, ahead of the group as usual.

 

“How would Matthew get to school?” He asked.

 

“His mom is driving him because of his arm.” Arthur cringed as he remembered the Canadian had snapped one of the bones in his arm. Obviously he wouldn't be riding his bike to school. Francis laughed as Arthur grumbled about being unable to facepalm since he had to cling on to the French boy's shoulders. They rode for about twenty minutes before the school came into view. Arthur stepped down, massaging his legs with a hiss as Francis locked his bike on the bike rack. He smiled apologetically at him. “Sorry, should have warned you that your legs would get a bit sore having to keep your balance like that.”

 

“Dammit, Fran, everytime!” Alfred whined as he finally caught up. Carlos and Ivan had similar complaints as they walked their bikes to the rack. Francis shrugged before grabbing Arthur by the hand and racing inside. As soon as they made it in the building, the blonde yanked his hand away. Francis paused before rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

 

“Right. You do not like touch. Sorry.” A textbook suddenly dropped from seemingly nowhere, cracking Francis over the head. Arthur gasped and rushed forward as the taller boy cried out. Cackling could be heard from above them and Arthur looked up to see a railed off section of the second floor. Three boys were leaning over the metal bar with large grins on their faces. The brunette and the red-head high-fived while an Asian boy kept a fourth boy in a headlock, alternating between laughing at Francis's pain and briefly choking out the boy in his grasp.

 

An accented shout was heard followed by a short redheaded boy slamming into the assailants, fists and curses flying left and right. Francis sighed as the fight continued down the hall, the three boys running as the short redhead chased after them, the darker skinned boy leaning against the railing and rubbing at his throat.

 

“Does that happen often?” Arthur asked nervously.

 

“Ah, oui. They target me more than the others because I am trans.” Arthur jumped before looking about wildly to ensure no one had heard his new friend. Francis tilted his head with a bemused expression at the other's panic.

 

“Arthur, everybody knows already. It is not a secret I hide.” Arthur paused.

 

“They don't tell your parents?”

 

“My parents already know, but if I did not wish it they would not tell.” Upon seeing Arthur’s stunned expression he felt a pang of empathy for the other. “Your parents do not know, do they?” Arthur shook his head, eyes downcast. “That is alright, I know, and I support you. I will stand by you if you are out at school.” Arthur mulled over the option, chewing his lip uncertainly. Making up his mind, he sucked in a deep breath and nodded, feeling tears well up. He hastily blinked them back, refusing to cry in front of his new friend on his first day of school.

 

“So, those two kids, the one who they attacked and the one they fought, will they be okay?” Francis cracked a grin as if remembering something incredibly amusing.

 

“Ev will be in a lunch detention by the end of the week, mark my words. Those three,” He jerked his head in the direction of the second floor. “Will be in a hearse by the end of the day if they keep messing with Goring's boyfriend.” He rolled his shoulders, wincing at the pain from the corner of the book jabbing him in the crook of his neck. “Though Octavian is more than capable of taking care of himself. Mr. Trefusis taught him self-defense, I believe.” Thoroughly confused, Arthur just brushed off the names he couldn't connect to any faces and finished checking Francis for any open wounds. He tsked as he discovered a small slash on his forehead from the edge, muttering under his breath about hardcover textbooks as he inspected the injury.

 

“Ah, geez, Dan?” Alfred asked as he approached the pair. Judging by the grass and dirt adorning his shirt, Alfred, Ivan, and Carlos had been screwing around outside. Ivan walked up to the three holding a leaf covered Carlos bridal style. Francis scowled.

 

“Yes, it was Dan and his goons. Carlos, were you in the tree again?” Carlos managed an innocent smile as he flashed a thumbs up. Francis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know Yao hates it when you-”

 

“Carlos!!” A boy of Asian descent with his long brown hair pulled into a ponytail stormed up to the group. He looked to be at least a Junior, and wore a long red dress and heels. He glared at the Sophomores, honing in on the Cuban teen who winked at him and made finger guns. “You were in the tree again!! How many times do I have to tell you, stay out of the tree!!” His brown eyes landed on each of the Rejects, pausing once he noticed Arthur. “You're new. Do you climb trees?” Arthur stammered for an answer, surprised by the suspicion and ferocity in the question.

 

“N-no? Not really??” Yao studies him for a moment before brightening. He launched himself at the other, a gleam in his eyes.

 

“Do you like debate? How about art? You seem like a book worm, have you ever considered joining book club?” Arthur looked to the others for help only to find them such looking at him with the same intensity.

 

“Yes to all three?” It came out as more of a question than he intended but the beaming grins be received made his heart flutter in his chest.

 

“Yao has a way of getting people to join his clubs.” Carlos called from Ivan's arms. “It's how he got us to join all three of them. Debate is every Tuesday, art is Wednesday, and book club is Friday. Hope you like to write essays, Art.”

 

“Oh! You're a boy!” Arthur blurted out. He slapped his pale hands over his red face, mortified. Yao stared at him before shrugging.

 

“Yeah, I get that alot. And if you're wondering why I wear feminine clothes… I look good in anything.” He said matter-of-factly. Arthur felt his face heat up a bit more; yeah, he had already been well aware of that. Curse his gay heart for checking out the Chinese upperclassman on top of the other four. Oh, did he mention he found the Rejects attractive? Because he did. Very much so. He felt disgust towards himself. It hadn't been too long since that night, and here he was already falling head over heels for five guys. Maybe his mother was right. Maybe he was just an attention seeking wh-

 

“Yo, Artie! You still with us bud?” Alfred snapped his fingers, a warm smile crossing his face at the sight of those bushy eyebrows popping up in surprise.

 

“Um, yeah, I just… got lost in my thoughts, I guess.” Alfred tilted his head like a confused puppy before beaming and jogging to the front of the group.

 

“Well, try not to get too lost in that pretty little head of yours,” Arthur stuttered at the compliment, “Because Alfred F. Jones is about to take y'all on the best school tour you have ever seen!” Francis felt a smile tug at his lips at the tiny piece of Texan Alfred still had in him peeking through. His smile only widened as he watched Carlos whine about being too tired to walk on his own, Ivan clearly losing the battle against the short boy's puppy eyes. He full on laughed as he caught sight of Yao showing off his nails to Arthur, who looked genuinely interested in the older boy's hobby. He had worried, he would admit to that, that Arthur wouldn't mesh well with the group's dynamic. He was so nervous and quiet, Francis had feared the boisterous energy of his friends would scare the little thing away. Arthur had proved him wrong, though. He fit right in, his mellow nature making him the perfect addition to the group.

  
That thought wouldn't leave him alone. He tried to keep focusing on the events around him, but his smile slowly became forced as his brain tumbled the question around and around; _why had Arthur looked so scared the other day when his mother had dragged him inside?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have finally figured out how to properly make the chapters so that they continue to have italicized and other affected text remain. I will try my best to get the next chapter out sooner, though I can't make any promises. Thank you for reading!
> 
> Oh, and props to anyone who can guess what book Octavian and Ev come from. I haven't decided whether or not to make them plot important just yet, but I just recently read the book and couldn't help myself but to add them! I'll give you guys a hint; it's a historical fiction novel set during the American revolutionary war.


End file.
